


Can't Pretend

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crushes, Emotionally Repressed, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Secret Crush, Series, handjobs, sub!cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A not-quite-friends-at-first with benefits story where our favorite awkward Commander ends up becoming a little fonder of one Dorian Pavus than he initially intended.</p><p>-</p><p>  <i>He could’ve said no, really. Let life happen in the easy way it does, letting it herd him from one task to another through the Inquisition; busying himself with work and war and weariness. That’s what he’s always been good at, so why change something that he knew was reliable. That’s what Cullen told himself as a hand rubbed across the back of his neck, grabbing gently at the curls to bring his face closer.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first foray into the Dragon Age fandom, and I tried to resist, goddamn, but these two are so wonderful- so I thought, why not put them together and make something super wonderful?
> 
> This is something I found on the DA kink meme over here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/12149.html?thread=47894389#t47894389
> 
> Currently unbeta'd so feel free to point out any glaring mistakes. Also your kudos and comments are supremely cherished, so if you left some of those I'd be super grateful. Thanks and hope you enjoy!

He could’ve said no, really. Let life happen in the easy way it does, letting it herd him from one task to another through the Inquisition; busying himself with work and war and weariness. That’s what he’s always been good at, so why change something that he knew was reliable. That’s what Cullen told himself as a hand rubbed across the back of his neck, grabbing gently at the curls to bring his face closer.

But this was the Inquisition. This was the chance for something new, something that would wipe up the last messy remnants of his past and pave it with something to be proud of. He’d even resolved to stop taking Lyrium. It hadn’t been easy- wasn’t easy- but it was the first step towards the redemption he so hungrily craved.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, taking the plunge into the murky waters of the future.

Cullen moaned as a hot mouth worked at his neck.

It was just a bit of fun between friends. That’s what Dorian told him, promised him. No unnecessary emotions. Cullen was certain he could do that, and what harm was there in a bit of stress relieving?

His hips bucked forward into the mage’s palm.

Mage. That’s right, Dorian was a mage. Cullen pulled his head back to look the other man over, the moonlight streaming in from his office window highlighting his sharp features. Dorian took notice of this. However instead of some flippant, vain remark, Dorian surprised Cullen.

“Is this alright?” he asked, looking him straight in the eyes. “If you’ve changed your mind, I understand. Not the first time I’ve lured a ‘straight man’ down the path of sin,” he teased.

Cullen furrowed his brow in confusion. “This isn’t sinful,” he said matter of factly.

Dorian gave him a dry look. “Clearly Ferelden rules are little looser than Tevinter ones, Commander. What is it then? Is it because I’m a mage?” At that Cullen went rigid. “Aha, so the ex-Templar still is wary of magic, that’s what it is. No matter-” He started to pull away, but Cullen kept his arms around the mage’s waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying.” Cullen held him tighter. “I’m different now. I want to be different.” He gave a sheepish glance around the empty office before finally settling on Dorian’s face; he was watching Cullen curiously. Dorian was always curious. As far as Cullen could tell, nothing would ever satisfy that man’s thirst for knowledge. Cullen moved the pair backwards so that he was resting on his desk, Dorian between his legs. “Help me change.”

“It’d be my pleasure, Commander,” Dorian all but purred, moving back in to pepper kisses along his stubbled jaw line, but avoiding his mouth. That had been one of their rules. No kissing on the mouth. Dorian explained it as, ‘A little too intimate for my current tastes.’

Cullen let himself enjoy the gentle touches though, his breath coming up in quiet huffs as Dorian’s hands roamed all over him, making quick work of the belts and buckles that held his bulky armor in place, leaving Cullen in just his shirt and trousers.

Cullen let out a soft, stuttering sigh as a hand wrapped confidently around his cock, working him to full hardness. He rocked into the touch, all but moaning as he felt Dorian’s own length up against his, the mage’s hand stroking both of them, breaths coming hot and fast as Cullen grabbed for Dorian’s face to bring their foreheads together.

And if his heart stuttered just a little bit at the proud, lustful grin that Dorian gave him, well, neither of them had to know.

Cullen spilled over with a strangled shout, Dorian following close behind as he continued stroking them through their orgasms until the very end.

This was certainly new, he couldn’t help but think. Maybe new wasn’t going to be bad after all. He was still going to be Cullen Rutherford, expert Commander of the Inquisition, but who said that he couldn’t loosen up a bit in other aspects of his life? Thoughts previously left untouched and hidden away in the deep recesses of his mind. Cullen licked his lips and reached towards his discarded coat for his handkerchief, wiping Dorian up first before himself.

Dorian licked the come on his fingers off with his mouth, Cullen watching entranced.

“I do hope that puts mages in your favor at least a little more, or else I’m afraid I haven’t done my job correctly.”

Cullen made a thoughtful noise. “You might have to show me again later just to make sure,” he chuckled, suddenly very aware of how close they were. He swallowed nervously. “Would you care for some water?” Dorian gave him a funny look; it wasn’t hurt nor confused, but rather deeply amused as Cullen moved off the desk to grab his canteen. He held it out to Dorian.

“And what a gentleman you are, Commander.”

“It’s Cullen. Just call me Cullen, Dorian.” He gave him a leveled look.

Dorian took a long drink of water before nodding, looking Cullen over. “Fine, fine. What a gentleman you are, _Cullen,_ ” Dorian amended almost sarcastically. Cullen couldn’t help the inexplicable grin on his face. “The strangest things bring you pleasure,” Dorian happily pointed out.

“What? Like what?” Cullen leaned back against his desk, fighting to hide his smile now but failing. He’d always thought of himself as fairly normal, perhaps even too normal. To have someone say he was strange was intriguing.

“For starters,” Dorian nodded towards Cullen’s sheathed sword on the desk. “Having your sword nearby. At first I thought it was something like a security measure after all those grizzled years as a Templar, but no… it’s not quite that,” Dorian trailed off. “It was a gift, wasn’t it? A token from someone important, perhaps a family member or mentor, because I’ve seen other swords in your hand and none ever look quite right.”

“It was my father’s sword,” Cullen answered, remembering the day vividly. It’d been after he’d joined the Templars, but before Kirkwall; damp and grey, but with an odd humidity surrounding the Templars that made every step and every breath laborious. It was a strange period in his life that if it were up to him, he’d outright forget. “I wasn’t what you’d call… pleasant company back then. I thought I was grounded in what I was doing, but I couldn’t have been further from the truth.”

“Lyrium?”

Cullen nodded.

I was stationed at an outpost when suddenly I got news of a package. I hadn’t heard from my family in almost over a year…” Distantly, a small voice in the back of Cullen’s head made a mental note to send a letter sometime soon. “...so naturally that took me by surprise.” He shifted where he leaned against the desk and looked out the window, picking out a constellation by habit. Dorian followed his gaze. “He’d died. Two weeks prior. And there I was, in the middle of nowhere slashing and bleeding and watching my comrades die, entirely unaware of what was happening in my own family.”

“Hmph, well that’s hardly your fault,” Dorian chimed in. “It’s what you thought was right at the time,” he shrugged. “If we were all the same from birth to death, life would be awfully dull, now wouldn’t it?” Cullen was grateful for the lack of pity in Dorian’s words. Too often when he relayed his past he was met with cooing and sad eyes which only served to weigh Cullen down. He poured enough salt over his own wounds in the past, and the last thing he needed was the added pressures of others trying to mend what wasn’t theirs to fix.

“I suppose so,” he nodded, looking down at his feet.

_I suppose so,_ Cullen repeated in his head.

Dorian shoved the canteen into his hands. “Well, I believe I’ll be on my way if that’s quite alright.” Cullen looked up, fumbling with the water. “Though whenever you’re feeling particularly stressed, _Cullen,_ ” the man in question felt his lips twitch up in a smile, “I’m sure you know where to find me.” He ran his knuckles over Cullen’s chest and then turned on his heel to leave.

Cullen stood there for a moment after, the weight of the situation lolling about in his head before he finally settled on simply leaving it for the time being. This was one of his many new ventures off the path of his former identity and he was going to enjoy it, one step at a time.

He looked down at the canteen that Dorian had drank from and put his lips to it, taking a sip.

The cool water felt nice; refreshing.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for all the lovely comments and kudos and bookmarks so far, because it really means a lot! This next chapter is sorta filler-y, but quite fluffy because I actually decided to split it up from something larger. Though I suppose that does mean chapter 3 will be up some time tomorrow! But alas, Time passes, Cullen has feelings and denies them, and lilacs are mentioned.
> 
> Oh! Also I forgot to mention that the title is from the song Can't Pretend by Tom Odell which you should totally give a listen to right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4-OxOmsqR0
> 
> As per usual, unbeta'd (though I try my best to catch any glaring mistakes!) and comments and kudos mean the world to me. Hope you guys enjoy!

While at first most of their conversations consisted of hurried handjobs down empty hallways and hasty blowjobs behind bookshelves, an easy friendship began to build between the two men. As the first couple of weeks passed, Cullen would now and again catch Dorian curled up in his favorite reading nook, oblivious to the world as he muttered to himself as he read. It seemed that even alone the words never ceased. Cullen would walk over and lean against the bookshelf across from Dorian, inquiring about whatever reading material he was delving into today. It amazed Cullen that he rarely saw Dorian with the same book twice, as if he were ravenously devouring every piece of information he could scrape up around him.

Dorian was of course more than happy to impart what he’d learned to Cullen, hands zipping around quickly but with an obvious sense of grace. Cullen would comment here and there, questioning things he didn’t understand or just didn’t flatout agree with, debating it with Dorian whose eyes lit up at the mental challenge.

Whenever one of them got the upper hand (usually Dorian, much to Cullen’s chagrin at being bested so often), Cullen would check the time and see that he only had mere minutes to make an advisor meeting. He’d tell Dorian that he’d get him in chess later at least, and Dorian would give that little laugh of his, assuring Cullen that, “Sure, sure, but that’s only because you don’t allow Tevinter rules.”

“That’s called cheating, Dorian,” Cullen would smile before walking away, a bit more of a spring in his step.

Sometimes they’d even take meals together when their schedules were fortunate enough to line up. Most of the time Cullen would eat in his office, sorting through papers and requests and letters to pass the time, but now and then Dorian would appear, food and wineskin in hand, and he’d perch on the edge of Cullen’s desk. Between mouthfuls of stew and wine, he’d recount some over the top story from earlier in the day about Sera’s antics or a particularly humorous encounter between Varric and Cassandra. Cullen caught himself outright laughing more than once at the mage’s tales, figuring that he’d worked through yesterday’s lunch, so what was the harm in letting one day slide?

Whereas before Cullen would’ve dismissed Dorian’s seemingly endless store of random knowledge about, well, everything, with a respectful nod, as time pressed on and he grew more comfortable, the praise slipped out without him realizing. During chess matches he’d smirk at a particularly clever move on Dorian’s part and follow up with, “It seems that they do know how to teach chess in the Imperium, after all.” Or an earnest, “You always manage to sound so awfully clever,” tossed casually Dorian’s way as he explained in-depth about the political processes of Tevinter, down to the smallest details.

“The gift of a sharp wit and a silver tongue, what can I say?” Dorian had said one time, shrugging. “My good looks don’t hurt either, I know.”

“Oh, and what about my tongue?” Cullen inquired, moving towards where Dorian was perched on his desk.

Dorian didn’t miss a beat. “So bold suddenly,” he grinned mischievously, “And though I’m not sure, I’m very willing to find out.”

Cullen started to move for Dorian’s lips, but ducked at the last second to Dorian’s throat, catching himself and feeling vaguely disappointed. He couldn’t help but find the no kissing rule a bit odd, but as Dorian wrapped his legs around Cullen’s waist to rut against him, the thought quickly dissipated. Dorian hummed with content, helping Cullen remove the heavy breastplate to brush his hands over his chest.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try something new,” Dorian said, running a hand through Cullen’s hair who couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“Well, I suppose, so long as you know what you’re doing...” Cullen all but purred under Dorian’s hand scratching gently at the back of his neck.

“I _always_ know what I’m doing,” Dorian preened, “but as we’ve already established, I _am_ a mage.” Cullen stilled at that, giving Dorian a concerned look. “And as far as I’m aware, you’ve no prior experience with mages other than the Circle or decapitating them, so if you’d like, I could…” he leaned in close to Cullen’s ear, whispering, “show you some of the benefits of magic.” Cullen shuddered. He was horribly conflicted. One part of him twisted at the idea of magic near him, so close in such a vulnerable space; but another found the idea terrifyingly tempting, sending a jolt to his arousal, especially with the way Dorian phrased it.

Dorian was patient with him as he stood there, silent as he thought. When Cullen looked up to meet Dorian’s gaze though, eyes glimmering with excitement, he knew he’d already made his decision. That’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? Distancing himself from the old Cullen, pushing himself towards something better. He’d come this far, so why stop?

“N- nothing too…”

“Flashy?” Dorian provided. Cullen nodded. “Darling,” Dorian leaned in again to nip at his ear, mustache tickling his neck just slightly, “you know I like it when you ask me to go slow.” Cullen let out a huffy laugh and did his best to relax, face visibly flushed.

Dorian leaned down and kissed along his neck, hands moving over Cullen’s chest, radiating heat much to his surprise.

“Is this alright?” Dorian asked, nuzzling into Cullen who caught a whiff of the oils Dorian used. He found a strange comfort in that scent these days; lingering in his office or sheets long after Dorian had left like a memory just out of reach. Cullen relaxed into the touch.

“Y- yeah, that’s nice,” he smiled, “really nice, actually.”

“Good,” Dorian cooed as he shifted his heated hands lower and lower, cupping Cullen’s cock through his trousers. Cullen’s breath stuttered. “Because it’s always so damn cold in Skyhold, and it’s a little known fact that the warmer the body, the better the orgasm,” Dorian said, accenting the last bit of his statement with a particularly pleasurable motion over Cullen’s cock whose hips bucked forward. Dorian gave him a positively evil look.

Cullen _did_ have to admit the additional heat wasn’t necessarily terrible as he was coming just minutes later in Dorian’s hand.

 

Despite their growing closeness, Cullen couldn’t help but notice Dorian’s odd quirks about their arrangement. After they’d finished, he was sure to have himself cleaned up and out the door within minutes, and never did he let himself fall asleep in Cullen’s bed no matter how tired he might’ve looked. Cullen had offered a number of times, insisting it was fine and could fit them both, but Dorian would give him these quiet looks before slapping his charm back on and saying he was a busy man with important things to do, sliding down the ladder to Cullen’s office, door opening and closing seconds later.

And of course there was still the no kissing on the lips rule, which Cullen found specifically odd because Dorian always seemed so eager to run his mouth over almost every other part of Cullen.

Cullen tried not to think about the strange ache in his chest after he was alone, pulling the still-warm covers over his head for a fitful night of sleep.

He’d chalk it up to the lyrium withdrawals, though that had been months ago.

 

During the days that Dorian was off with the Inquisitor on one quest or another, Cullen found himself wandering aimlessly around Skyhold at strange times. He’d pass the empty reading nook, meander down corridors that were largely barren, and stare at the unoccupied corner of his desk as he worked himself late into the night.

He would run his fingers over the books in the nook, wondering which ones Dorian had read and which he’d probably toss over his shoulder with an exasperated huff. Sometimes he even sat in the courtyard by the chessboard, the little figures sitting there prepared for war but with no opponent across from him.

Cullen didn’t like to ruminate on what all this meant exactly and preferred to keep it shoved aside, telling himself over and over to the point of irritation that he was just overthinking it, that all he needed was to release some tension because Dorian had been gone so long.

He’d return soon. Any day now. Safe and alive.

_Safe and alive._

_Safe and alive._

_Safe and alive._

Cullen would find himself repeating this as he worked, gnawing on his fingernails anxiously, a terrible habit he thought he’d kicked long ago.

Tentatively, during the most recent outing of the Inquisitor’s, Cullen brought a hand over his chest where Dorian had brushed his knuckles up against all those long weeks ago. He would be fine. Cullen took a deep breath and focused on keeping his thoughts from straying, but with little luck; the curve of Dorian’s back was burned into his mind; the barest hint of a flush on his dark skin as he pushed into Cullen for the first time, petting his hair and telling him how good he felt; the ache in Cullen’s chest as he was forced to continually deny himself the taste of Dorian’s lips against his.

He shook his head and stood abruptly, forcing it all away. It wasn’t fair to their deal. To Dorian. He left the solitude of his office for another walk.

No point in wasting the sunlight being cooped up inside all day, right? Or so he told himself.

And such was his routine when Dorian wasn’t in the immediate vicinity.

 

When Dorian did return however, Cullen was always there to greet him in his office, heart hammering away in his chest like a child anticipating a surprise, ready to listen to whatever stories Dorian had for him this time. Most recently, he had even stopped at the sight of some purple lilacs on his way back, remembering an offhand remark Dorian had made about how he enjoyed them.

Cullen had his hands on the bush, ready to snap off a branch of the fragrant flowers, but someone stirring nearby broke his reverie and he let his hands drop. What was he doing? This wasn’t something friends did for one another. And besides, he didn’t want to embarrass Dorian, give people the wrong idea. They were simply friends. Nothing more. Cullen actively frowned at the flowers as if they had personally offended him.

He brushed the purple petals off his coat and walked away from the bush.

 _Maybe next time,_ a small part of him thought.

He denied himself the impulse to look back.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I feel like a broken record saying it so often, but thank you all for your feedback! It truly means the world and, well, if I do in fact sound like a broken record, it's a very happy one! 
> 
> If I've calculated correctly, I think this fic will only go up to about 5 chapters, but I totally can't wait to explore other stories with these two. I'd also like to work on making my chapters longer @-@ I also promise that there'll be some rewarding porn at the end because for a fwb fic, there is an odd amount of porn lacking >:)
> 
> As always, unbeta'd other than my own read-throughs, so feel free to point out any mistakes!
> 
> Other than that, please enjoy! 
> 
> P.S this song is great https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6REt5ZE45I

A week or so passed since the lilacs, and Cullen stared down the chessboard, determining his next move. He felt Dorian’s gaze focused on him which really only served to distract Cullen.

“Any day now would be nice. My good looks, though dashing, won’t last forever,” Dorian snickered, leaning back in his chair, arms spread across the back. Cullen forced himself to not let his eyes wander. He would bet good money that Dorian knew exactly what he was doing, mid-afternoon sunlight lighting up the jeweled adornments on his robe, shimmering boldly and unabashedly. Cullen spotted a potential opening and moved his rook.

“Strategy takes patience, Dorian. Something you appear to lack,” Cullen retorted as Dorian made a fairly quick move with his knight.

“That’s funny you mention patience because if I recall correctly, someone told me last night while bent over a desk how-” Cullen cleared his throat to cut Dorian off. A beat of silence passed before Dorian rushed out, voice low, “How badly he wanted my cock in his ass ‘right now, Dorian, please, please, please!’” Dorian mocked, waving his hands around for dramatic effect. Cullen dropped his face into his palms and groaned. “Yes, I do believe that’s the exact noise you- I mean, _he_ made, too.”

“I will get up and leave you here.”

“No you won’t. I know you too well. That’s another _weird_ thing that brings you pleasure.” Dorian’s tone switched to one of intrigue, as if he were studying a specimen up close. “You like to see things through until the end, even if it’s something as mundane as folding your clothes or putting every last one of your books back on the shelf before you leave a room.” At the mention of a conversation from so long ago, Cullen looked up.

“You never did mention the other things,” Cullen said, grateful for the change in topic. He looked back down at the chess board and studied the positions. Dorian’s bishop looked fairly exposed. He moved a pawn as bait for something larger.

“Hm, I suppose I never did, did I?” Dorian said flippantly, crossing his legs and leaning back. He looked out towards the courtyard. Cullen moved his piece and waited, but Dorian’s gaze was far away from the table in front of him.

“Any day now would be nice.” Cullen prompted. “My good looks, though dashing, won’t last forever, Dorian.” Dorian gave him an amused look, seemingly utterly delighted at Cullen’s jab. Dorian refocused back on the board.

“Well that oddly sounds familiar. Rumor has it that they only keep you around Skyhold for your good looks, you know.”

Cullen guffawed. “And you say you’re not a gossip.”

“Aha, but the man in question doesn’t deny it! And there’s an important difference between mere gossip and maintaining an ear close to the ground, darling. Never know when something important might come up.” Dorian fell for Cullen’s bait and took his pawn with his rook without so much as a second glance.

Cullen hummed in feigned disappointment at the loss. “But tell me,” Cullen reached for a piece but reconsidered, “what other things supposedly bring me ‘strange pleasures?’” He was terribly curious to see himself through the eyes of another, especially when that person was none other than Dorian Pavus. Cullen, though proud, typically considered himself a fairly average man. He was just a piece in the Maker’s grand scheme of it all, here to serve where he felt he was needed.

Dorian huffed.

“So self-centered today, aren’t we? Well fine then, if you’re so damn curious,” Dorian said. “Barring myself of course, you like it when there’s not one, but two extra spoonfuls of honey in your tea, though for some unfathomable reason you seem to claim you dislike most sweets.” Cullen felt his ears grow hot. “And don’t think that we all haven’t caught you at least once eating that sickeningly sweet sugar-butter frosting concoction you ask Josephine about. You’re not fooling anybody with your ‘Big Tough Commander’ facade.” Cullen grimaced and settled for moving his rook backwards.

“And when you’re writing up a report for our dear Inquisitor, you get this peculiar little grin on your face when the word you’re writing fits perfectly on the page,” Dorian continued as Cullen watched him, terribly curious. “No need for a hyphen to break it up onto the next line. Or perhaps I should point out how proud you get one when of your recruits in training gets the technique _just_ right; though that might be more attributed to some odd secret paternal fantasy. Who’s to say, though?”

A pause.

Cullen’s expression had softened with a dreamy sort of daze as he soaked up every word like a sponge, intrigued with the way Dorian explain Cullen to himself as if he were reading from between the pages of some index right at hand. To know that someone had paid attention that carefully to the details of his life, like a hand tracing over every individual word with care in a book, filled Cullen with an indescribable feeling that granted him a lightness he didn’t think possible.

“Ah, it’s my turn,” Dorian breezily said, moving his remaining bishop. “I do believe that’s game, my friend.”

Cullen glanced down at the board with wide eyes and then back up at Dorian, squinting with suspicion. He could’ve sworn he’d had the game in the bag.

“You cheated,” Cullen accused, though he was fairly certain that this time Dorian actually hadn’t. Dorian made to stand, stretching his stiff joints with a small noise that of a cat who’d gotten the cream.

You’re slipping, Cullen.”

And it was there, the sun lighting him up as a cool gust of wind brushed past them, that the ground was pulled from underneath his feet. At the sound of his name, something Dorian had said a million times, Cullen realized he wanted to hear it a million more; by his side, in his ear, against his lips. Something blossomed radiantly in Cullen’s chest at the sight of Dorian’s brilliance all these long months, and it felt both beautiful yet tragic, like watching a sunrise while an apocalypse was on the brink of erupting.

Dorian’s words rushed past his ears like waves at an ocean; roaring and all consuming.

“Cullen? Cullen?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Cullen snapped to attention and stood, accidentally brushing Dorian’s hand off. Dorian took a step towards him, confusion painting his features. Cullen’s eyes flickered down to Dorian’s lips. They were parted with concern.

“I- um. I have to…” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I forgot about some reports Leliana wanted. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Whatever remark Dorian had fell on deaf ears as Cullen hurried away, pulling his coat tighter around him. He walked briskly, hugging himself for warmth.

When had it gotten so blasted cold?

Cullen avoided Dorian for six days. He knew the mage well enough to work out his schedule and usual haunts, making sure to steer clear or only pass by when he knew he wouldn’t be around. In those six days though Cullen found himself growing sullen, busying himself with Inquisition work until he could feel the grasp of a headache looming just over him. And even then, he’d press forward, anything to distract his thoughts from the cavernous ache in his chest.

On the fifth day, one of Josephine’s messengers came up with the frosting concoction he liked to embarrassingly snack on while working. He sheepishly took it, but after a few mouthfuls found himself sliding it away, Dorian’s words echoing in his head.

It was undeniable.

He loved Dorian Pavus.

Cullen put his head down in his hands and groaned. Reflecting upon the current situation now, he couldn’t help but kick himself at how careless he’d let himself get. There was only so much one could change about themselves, but Cullen knew himself to be a man of attachment, always pining after one person or another he could never have until they finally moved on. The thought that he’d be able to hold Dorian in between the sheets but not in his heart was something he now scoffed at. Of course the two would bleed over. Cullen was always letting things bleed over because he could never swallow his pride, never admit to himself that he still was Cullen Rutherford and always would be.

_If we were all the same from birth to death, life would be awfully dull, now wouldn’t it?_

The sentence rang clear in Cullen’s ears, a snippet from something so long ago that had buried itself in his mind, not so much pushing him forward as it was guiding him all this time, like a gentle hand at his back. Dorian’s hand. He forced himself to stir from his sulking.

Perhaps at his core certain things were unchangeable, pressed upon his psyche before birth even, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t change how he reacted to them. For the first time in days, Cullen let a small flicker of hope swell up within him, though it was still enveloped by a dark room of uncertainty, anxiety, and fear. But Cullen let the hand at his back guide him. He had to.

Cullen stood and headed outside into the sunlight.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I misjudge how long this will probably be, re-find my voice as I write, and learn that my chapters should be longer in the future but now it's too late _I have a roughly set length for each one in this story maker's breath_
> 
> That being said, thank you again for sticking around with all your lovely comments, kudos, and bookmarks. As a writer, they bring me immense joy and bUH y'all are great. I can't wait to bust out other stories for you guys.
> 
> Unbeta'd other than my own read-throughs, so feel free to pick out any mistakes!
> 
> (I also promise shit will happen in the next chapter other than Cullen being, well, Cullen. It's a setup chapter or whatever they're called idK and tHEY WILL BANG HARDCORE I CAN ASSURE YOU OF THAT. Eventually. Once they get their shit sorted out.)
> 
> Please enjoy! :D

The air, though still expectantly cold, held a sweetness to it today. The sky wasn’t particularly clear nor bright, but there was something undeniably charming about the soft, billowy greys above that eased Cullen as he walked around Skyhold, shoulders held back with resolve. He was going to find Dorian. He had to.

As the Commander checked all of Dorian’s usual haunts though, he found them to be lacking one Tevinter mage, filled either with someone else who’d acknowledge him with a nod and “Commander,” or, worse, entirely empty. Cullen would run a hand through his hair and move onto the next place, his hope beginning to dwindle after he’d checked more than a good number of rooms and corridors. It was when he anxiously bumped into Josephine that he found some clarification, though it offered him little reassurance.

“Ah, he’s been gone for the past few days with the Inquisitor. It wasn’t official Inquisition business, so we didn’t see it necessary to announce. May I ask why you need to see him, Commander?” There was a slight smirk hidden in her voice as she asked.

Cullen frowned. How had he been so clueless about Dorian’s whereabouts? All that sneaking about for naught. “Surely this is detracting from the time and effort we should be putting into the Inquisition,” he said, trying to divert her attention. Josephine nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

“Yes, well, it appeared to be some personal business of Ser Dorian’s, but they didn’t care to divulge any further nor did I push for them to.” Cullen couldn’t help the surprise in his eyes as she said this. “Well Commander, I’ll let you get on your way. It’s nice to see you outside of your office, though. You’ve been holed up in there for quite a while, it seems.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve been… busy,” Cullen lamely finished.

Josephine gave him a small, dare he say _knowing,_ smile as she made to leave, but before she did, she plucked something out of his hair. “Lilacs?”

Cullen, much to his credit, managed to look calmly intrigued, as if it were just as much a surprise to him as it was to Josephine. “Ah, must’ve been when I walked past the bush in the courtyard. It’s a touch windy today, it seems.” He gave a nod of dismissal to her before walking away, eternally thankful to the Maker for the chilly weather that hid the blush on his face. Cullen stopped around a corner to pull the single branch of lilac he’d extracted out of his coat, smiling faintly at it before remembering Josephine’s words.

Personal business? He held the branch delicately, afraid of disturbing it too much. Was Dorian okay? Cullen couldn’t recall anything entirely amiss with Dorian prior to their chess match, though other than snippets here and there about his life back in the Imperium, Dorian had remained oddly hushed about the specifics of his own personal life. Cullen found it strange how much he knew about the other man, yet still felt as if there was one last gap, surrounded by things like Dorian’s favorite books, the look on Dorian’s face when he stood to admire the sunset, or what it was like when he left the Imperium “in search of bigger things,” as Dorian himself had said.

Cullen looked up towards the towers at the ends of the battlements then back down at the branch in his hand and, Maker, were his hands shaking? Cullen took a deep breath and turned the branch over to examine it more closely. It would be a shame to let it wilt, he thought, idly admiring the vibrant purple of the petals before re-pocketing it.

 

Carefully, though suspicious of his own actions even, Cullen opened the door to Dorian’s quarters, ensuring that it was indeed truly and completely vacant. He smiled at the stack of books next to Dorian’s bed and the melted candles Cullen remembered Dorian lighting with an impressive flick of the wrist before he had swallowed Cullen down with a wolfish grin. The space was smaller than Cullen’s own room, but he found that Dorian had preferred it that way; it was cozier, somewhere he could fill with his own personality and rearrange as necessary depending on what his interests were focused on that week.

Cullen moved towards Dorian’s small desk and shifted a few things carefully, but as he did so, a slip of paper fell to the ground. He cursed quietly to himself as he placed the glass of water holding the lilac branch on the table to bend down and retrieve the paper. When he stood, a name scrawled neatly at the bottom caught his eye; Halward Pavus. Cullen frowned. The name didn’t ring any bells, but the connection to Dorian caught his intrigue. He didn’t want to pry into business that wasn’t his, but the nagging thought of Dorian’s well being compelled him to read on.

The letter on the surface was very vague, written with elegant handwriting, and was seemingly innocuous. Though, there was a certain sense of guilt-tripping that was interwoven within the sentences, quiet jabs and prods that could either pass as joking or perhaps friendly, but there was something with the grave, “Please, Dorian. I just want what’s best for you,” that shaded its tone as much darker before the author signed off. Cullen grimaced and forced himself to set the letter down. He felt a slight pang of guilt at the intrusion, but figured it was relatively harmless- nothing had been revealed, nothing breached.

Cullen shifted the lilac slightly to the left, further from the edge of the desk just to be safe before leaving.

 

As the days passed, slowly rolling into next week and bringing it to a total of nine days since Cullen saw Dorian last, his nerves began to get the better of him. Each day, with a shred of hope embedded in his chest that the mage would be there, Cullen would venture towards Dorian’s room to change the water within which the lilacs sat in. As he would replace the branch into a fresh glass, Cullen would second guess his actions, wondering if this was perhaps too forward, too something outside the realm that ‘friends’ would do. But then he’d set down the glass with a careful thud, smile at its simplicity among the clutter of Dorian’s desk, and realize that ‘friends’ wasn’t what he was really going for anymore, now was it?

He folded his hands behind his back and left the small quarters, but as soon as he stepped outside, Cullen was met with the sound of chatter from below. He peered out a nearby window and saw the Inquisitor with Solas and Blackwall in tow, each of them looking as if they’d been mauled by a bear. But what stood out most to Cullen was the distinct lack of Dorian in the group. Cullen furrowed his brow and, quickly doubling back into Dorian’s room for a moment, hurried down to the lower level and into the courtyard, but as he passed the medical room a familiar voice caught his ears, and Cullen was pulled into backpedaling.

“Kaffas, I’m fine, I’m fine!” Dorian groused, waving away the healers who crowded around him. Cullen stood in the doorway, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him when Dorian met his gaze, grinning charismatically as if he weren’t currently sitting on a table shirtless with a bloodied face and a bandage plastered to his torso. Cullen was by his side in mere strides.

“Maker, what happened to you?” Cullen all but exclaimed as he brought a tentative hand up to Dorian’s face, cupping it to inspect the damage. Outwardly, everything seemed fine save for the blood that stained his lips and mustache. “Did Halward do this to you?” Cullen blurted out before he could stop himself, blinded by the rage that threatened to spill over

“Halward?” Dorian squinted, pulling away from Cullen’s touch who instantly realized his mistake. “My father? Why would my father- It was an ambush of Greater Abominations, ask the Inquisitor if you’re so damned curious.” A pause. “Who told you that’s where we were?” Dorian gave Cullen a hard look which was met with sheepish silence. “Or rather, did you go into my room and rifle through my belongings while I was away, Commander?” Cullen shifted uneasily at the accusation. It didn’t sound harsh, but there was a distinct lack of amusement in those words.

“I- I didnt’t mean to see it, I swear, Dorian.” He reached out again, relieved when Dorian let him, though it looked to be more out of exhaustion than anything. “I was just dropping something off and it fell onto the floor,” Cullen said more quietly. “I… uh, I haven’t seen you around lately, and I hadn’t been made aware you’d left until just a few days ago so I w- wanted to um,” he rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I wanted to leave something there for you.”

At that, Dorian seemed to square his shoulders slightly, straightening up with interest.

“A gift, for me?” he teased, and though he didn’t smile, some of the color returned to his eyes. “Why Cullen, if I’d known, I’d have picked up that beef bone I saw that mabari gnawing on for you. Very nutritious looking, I’ll have you know. Probably better than the slop they serve here, though that just might be my Tevinter tastes.” he jested dryly. “Hm… but what exactly _did_ you get me?” Dorian asked, reminding Cullen of an eager child with how he swung his feet.

Cullen relaxed, warmth flooding through him as he started to reach towards his jacket only to still his hand. Now didn’t seem the time to unravel the threads that were Cullen’s feelings. Dorian was injured, healers were just around the corner, and the last thing Cullen wanted was an audience. Instead he opted for stroking Dorian’s face and dropping to grab his arm.

“Are you well enough to move? I was hoping we could, um, relocate. To my quarters.”

“Oh? It’s that kind of surprise then, is it?” Dorian made a strange motion towards Cullen, as if he were leaning in before turning it into an awkward attempt to slide off the table. He winced as he hit the ground and Cullen’s arm was around his waist immediately.

Dorian tried to shoo him away, insisting he was fine enough to walk. In lieu of an answer, Cullen just gave Dorian a stern glare and tightened the grip around his waist, though for all his resolve, he couldn’t help the flush on his face as Dorian cooed, “Ah, people will talk,” into his ear with a grin.

“People will always be talking. At least now they’ll have something interesting to gossip about,” Cullen grumpily said as he supported Dorian out the door and into the hallway.

“Hm, so I have been rubbing off on you, it seems- in more than one way.”

“You know what? I change my mind. I’ll just drop you here.”

“No you won’t,” Dorian said with huffy laugh.

Cullen didn’t answer until they’d ascended the stairs, Dorian leaning on him more as they moved slowly across the battlements.

“No, I won’t,” Cullen said afterwards under his breath, almost imperceptible, with a quirk of his lips as he looked down at Dorian who had turned to watch the setting sun with the same awe he always had. In the sweet, fiery, orange light that happily escaped from the thick overcast, Dorian absolutely glowed.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW. Okay. Sorry for the delay, but this sucker is finally done! I'm running on like 6 hours of sleep, but classes were canceled for tomorrow because apparently the Northeast is supposed to die in some massively historic blizzard like it does every year.
> 
> That being said, I am also never writing a fic until I have it all planned out and beta'd like seven times YEAH.
> 
> Thank you all for joining me on this adventure and I hope you enjoy! You're all wonderful people <3 
> 
> I'm gonna collapse in my bed now.

The bed creaked beneath Cullen’s weight as he settled, slipping off his gloves and cloak. Deft fingers reached for the straps that held his armor together and Cullen let them work, so precise in their intention to free him of the heavy breastplate he kept wound tightly to his chest every day; holding him together, keeping him safe.

Cullen began working on the buckles of Dorian’s own robes, his own scarred and calloused fingers less trained in the finesse that surely came with years of casting spells and enchantments, but this was familiar, it was a comfort. But today held a different energy to it. Rather than the frantic and hungry hands that rushed to rip clothing off, there was caution and care in Cullen’s treatment of this all. He minded the dark bruises and faded wounds on the mage, hands brushing gently over them with a grimace, letting the silence speak for him.

“You’re treating me like I’m going to break,” Dorian huffed, pushing Cullen’s cloak down his shoulders. Cullen gripped his wrist; gently, always gently. For all his might and prowess on the battlefield with a sword clasped between his hands, Cullen noticed that when it came to Dorian, a careful stillness was evoked in him. Even in their most eager and aggressive moments Cullen was sure to hold onto that feeling, tending to it like one tends a fire; letting it burn and grow and flourish until it becomes impossible to ignore.

Wordlessly, Cullen reached into the cloak and retrieved the branch. By now it had become flattened a bit, and the purple clusters of petals had softened with time and death, but the spark of life that flashed through Dorian’s eyes made it all worthwhile.

“They’re, um,” Cullen paused. A million endings to that sentence ran through his head. _Old, For you, From the other day, Your favorite, What I want to say to you in a way that words fail me._ Thankfully, Cullen didn’t have to finish his thought.

“Lilacs,” Dorian breathed out, his posture softening as he ran a delicate hand over them. He looked up at Cullen for an answer to a question he didn’t ask out loud. Cullen nodded and smiled sheepishly. Dorian took the branch from him. “They’re my favorite,” Dorian said dreamily, admiring the flowers, but there was a hint of sadness hidden within his tone.

Cullen felt his chest tighten.

“I know. I mean,” A sigh to collect his thoughts. He turned towards Dorian, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing, doing his best to fight the urge to glance down at the ground. “I know we started off… with the intent of keeping this casual. I don’t think either of us thought we were in the right place to be in… something more. But,” Cullen swallowed, Dorian’s uncharacteristic silence boring into him, but he pressed on. “But, I’ve uh- Maker, you’re amazing,” Cullen let out on a breath, leaning in closer. Dorian’s fingers curled around Cullen’s wrist and he smiled wryly.

“Cullen,”

“No. Let me finish,” he said, hand moving up to cup Dorian’s jaw, thumb stroking along the soft skin where day old stubble was already pressing through. “I know we started… with the intention of keeping things casual, but… I’ve… grown rather fond of you. Really quite fond of you.” He could feel Dorian tense beside him. Cullen’s voice grew quiet, as if they were in a crowd and the words he were about to speak were for Dorian’s ears only. “I spend so much of my day thinking about you, consumed by you even when I don’t realize it. Every time you venture out there, off to fight the Red Templars or Venatori or whatever else is out there, a part of me fears you won’t come back. If anything were to happen to you I’d-” Cullen broke off, taking a breath. He glanced away. “I love you,” he said in a hushed tone, like Dorian might bolt at any moment, leaving Cullen alone with his misery. Just the thought of that made Cullen feel like he was in free fall, plummeting towards depths unknown.

He expected nearly anything other than the press of lips against his, soft and eager. Cullen startled before kissing back. Dorian had caught him.

It was a simple press of lips at first, Dorian grabbing the back of Cullen’s neck to draw him closer, the other hand still holding the flowers. Cullen savored the feeling before pushing for more, pushing further to let Dorian know how he felt in a way other than words. He hungrily took anything he could get as he wound his arms around Dorian’s waist, pulling him closer, closer, closer.

When they finally pulled apart, Dorian spoke, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that many words come out of your mouth before. So curious to think where all that eloquence goes when you’re not on the battlefield giving a rousing speech to your men. I do think that you should leave the lengthy conversing to me, though.” Despite the jab, Dorian’s face had an utterly pleased look on it, bringing their foreheads together.

Cullen let out a huff of laughter. “You just like to hear yourself talk.”

“Hmm, nothing wrong with that, now is there? You certainly don’t complain.”

“Don’t make me start,” Cullen said before kissing him again. “Maker, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Hm, and the Commander grows bold!” Dorian said against his lips, pulling them back to lay on the bed. As they settled, Cullen leaning on his elbows over Dorian, Dorian put a hand to Cullen’s face to intercept yet another kiss. “Just in case you haven’t figured it out, I love you, too.” His voice dropped as he continued, “When you mentioned my father earlier, I… it took me by surprise. And not in a good way,” he laughed darkly. Cullen frowned and placed his hand over Dorian’s. “We don’t exactly see eye to eye on a number of things, one of them being mainly myself. And who I choose to keep company with. He cast doubt in me when we met, said I should come back to Tevinter. Come back home. And of course I never would, there’s a very long list of reasons why, but at the forefront of it all was… you. I never knew where this was going, if it was going anywhere at all, but I was in too deep, I suppose.

“I was a masochist, I stuck with it against all my better sense.” Cullen brought Dorian’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers, holding it tight. “I’ve always just learned to never get my hopes up about these things because in the Imperium, it’s all for pleasure between men. No love is allowed to blossom. Nobody speaks of it.” Dorian cast his eyes down, as if embarrassed at the confession. Cullen felt his heart tighten.

He peppered kisses upon Dorian’s palm, moving up to the crook of his elbow before murmuring into it, “I would leave the Inquisition before I left you.” He felt Dorian rumble with a small laugh.

“So dramatic, Commander.”

Cullen smiled and moved up to Dorian’s lips. claiming them eagerly. “Perhaps,” he said as he pulled away, “but I did learn from the best.”

“Rude,” Dorian chided, smirking at Cullen. He cupped the blond’s face gently, thumb rubbing over the scar that split through his lip. “But I suppose also a compliment.” Dorian rolled them over so that Cullen was underneath him, and he slid his way down, one hand cupping Cullen through his trousers. “If I recall though, you were saying a while ago that I’m also the best at something else.” He put his mouth over Cullen’s cock, breath hot as the blond stifled a small moan. Dorian kissed and sucked through the thin material of the trousers until Cullen’s cock began to stir with interest, and only then did he slip them down the commander’s hips along with his smallclothes, kissing his hip bones before taking him in his mouth. He sucked gently at the head while stroking him with his hand, working him to full hardness while Cullen’s breaths became short and quick.

Soon both men were naked and Cullen rolled Dorian over to take his cock in his mouth, catching him up. It took all he had to not buck into his mattress as he watched Dorian throw his head back in pleasure; pleasure that Cullen was providing him with. His chest swelled with pride at that thought as he took more of the length down his throat, sucking hard but slow, letting it build in the way that he knew Dorian liked best. Cullen slid his mouth off and looked up at Dorian through hooded eyes.

“I want to ride you,” Cullen said, voice hoarse, “please.”

Dorian looked down at him and then grabbed his shoulder, pulling him closer. He gave Cullen’s cock a few strokes before taking his hand to suck on Cullen’s fingers, coating them with a generous amount of saliva. Cullen watched with rapt interest, hips twitching at the sight.

“Only if I get to watch you stretch yourself,” Dorian purred, guiding Cullen’s hand behind him. Without hesitating, Cullen pushed a finger in and let out a small grunt at the hot tightness. Slowly though, making sure to watch Dorian as he did so, Cullen worked himself open, adding in another finger with a stuttering huff, hips rocking just slightly as he straddled Dorian who held his waist with one hand and ran his thumb over the one of Cullen’s peaked nipples.

“You’re brilliant, you’re doing brilliantly,” Dorian praised. “One more finger and I’ll let you ride me for as long as you want,” Dorian promised, giving a quick stroke to Cullen’s flushed cock that bobbed against his stomach.

Cullen let out a whine as he inserted a third finger, thrusting it in and out, rhythm picking up dangerously before Dorian grabbed his wrist to pull him out. Dorian licked his fingers before letting go to grab Cullen’s hips.

“That’ll do, Commander.”

“I- I want to feel you in me,” Cullen rasped, his ability for comprehension almost gone. Together they guided Cullen onto his cock. As he settled, each man let out a noise, Cullen’s embarrassingly louder than he would normally care for. They both stayed there for a moment, breathing in the heady pleasure before Cullen started with quick, shallow thrusts as he bounced up and down tentatively.

“Absolutely brilliant,” Dorian managed through a moan, “you’re brilliant.” Cullen ate up the praise, picking up speed the more Dorian spoke. “You’re so good, so good,” Dorian spurred him on, “Every little noise you make is,” a grunt, “perfect. You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Dorian normally talked during sex, making comments here and there, but this time it was different, Cullen hazily noted. The words held a new weight to them, filling Cullen’s chest with pride and an eagerness to please the man beneath him.

Cullen felt his rhythm stuttering now as Dorian reached out to stroke his cock, flicking the tip gently with his thumb before rubbing it in time with his bouncing.

“I- I’m gonna…” Cullen trailed off with a moan. He shut his eyes, the pace merciless now.

“Come for me,” Dorian cooed, working Cullen faster and harder. Cullen felt himself clench around Dorian’s cock as he spilled over with a strangled shout, the bedframe rattling as he did so. He continued to move though, making sure Dorian who wasn’t far behind finished as well. Within a few moments Dorian was coming hot into Cullen, fingers gripping his hips tightly as he did so, curses and praise mixed together spilling from his lips. Cullen soaked it up, staring through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and love and a thousand other things at the man beneath him.

When Dorian was spent, the pair sat there panting before Cullen rolled off. Cullen turned to look at Dorian who met his gaze. Cullen licked his lips and glanced down. Dorian picked up on the commander’s intent and beat him to it, wrapping a hand around the back of Cullen’s neck to draw their faces closer so their lips could meet.

“You are… unlike anyone I have ever met,” Cullen found himself saying after they pulled apart, their foreheads resting against one another’s. In a brief flash, he was reminded of that night all those months ago; a hurried handjob in the dark, a hot mouth on his neck followed by the vague impulse to bring that mouth against his own.

In the immediate moment he didn’t feel noticeably different, but he knew without a doubt that something had changed, as imperceptible as it may have been on the surface. It was a gradual shift of the self that rounded out his senses, bringing him to a feeling of almost unity as he lay there, Dorian in his arms grinning with an openness he had only dreamt of before.

Dorian placed his lips on Cullen’s, mouthing something in Tevene.

Cullen made a small noise of inquiry against his lips.

“Amatus,” he whispered.

“And what’s that mean?”

For once Dorian didn’t use his words to answer Cullen, taking the other man’s knuckles and brushing his lips over the scarred and hardened skin.

 

 


End file.
